


on the issue of sexuality and character

by singlemalter



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Bisexuality, Coming of Age, Gen, Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlemalter/pseuds/singlemalter
Summary: There are many things Daniel understands, and even more he does not.





	on the issue of sexuality and character

**Author's Note:**

> Important warnings: this work mentions two instances of homophobic violence with relative detail. It contains derogatory words, including the F-slur. There is a fairly outdated-slash-cissexist definition of bisexuality; this is intentional but in no way a reflection of my actual thoughts.
> 
> (It is also a very personal work, so please be kind.)

Life’s not hard. At least, he doesn’t think it is—his dad races on occasion, and sometimes he gets to join in, which is pretty fun. His mum’s kind, and he lives in a nice neighbourhood, gets to have the big Dale Earnhardt-shaped number on the entrance to his home.

It’s fine until school happens. Daniel’s not the kind of kid to sit and do his homework: he’s more the bursts of energy and broken windows type. Mum’s worried about it; dad isn’t. He rolls with his dad, because he won’t learn to fully appreciate his mum’s worry for another ten years or so. 

He makes friends despite his shyness. They’re all boisterous, loud boys with a lot of money to spend on lunch and crazy stories that Daniel doesn’t quite believe. Harry in particular seems to always have a mean remark on the tip of his tongue; when James tells him he’s not too keen on playing soccer after class, Harry scoffs and calls him a fairy.

* * *

His dad turns off the TV when the anchorman talks about a man who’d killed his friend. He doesn’t get an answer when he asks, “Why?”

Thirty-five punches. Six stabbings with a scissor.

It sticks with Daniel for some reason.

* * *

He’s 9 when he goes to Wanneroo and gets in a go-kart for the first time. The pungent smell of two-stroke fuel tickles his nostrils, and a layer of sweat covers his forehead when he takes off his helmet after the first few laps. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced, and he finally understands why his dad spent so many years at the track, surrounded by speed and grease for hours on end.

There’s a small championship a month later. It’s like nothing else bigger than himself, to be able to compete with other—smarter, older, more experienced—kids and feel competent enough to make up a few positions with his clumsy overtakes. 

Daniel wins his inaugural race. His dad lifts him on to the makeshift podium and celebrates with the loud pride of someone whose son has just won the World Drivers’ Championship. 

* * *

Daniel never wraps his head around the concept of what a fairy actually _is_. He’s fairly certain people can be two types of gay: the one that actually kisses other boys, and the one that’s weak or cowardly. Things, it seems, can also be gay, because a kid’s pencil snaps in half during an exam and he calls it gay, his tone acidic. 

It’s weird. He doesn’t give it a lot of attention. Karting takes up more space in his mind, and he thinks, _hey, maybe I’m going somewhere with this_.

* * *

At 13, three things happen to Daniel that change his entire outlook on life:

First, he actually cements himself as a prodigy behind the wheel, which is _mental_. His coach’s happy, his dad’s living vicariously through every podium, his mum’s working overtime to help pay the bills. He doesn’t have the bumbling optimism of his future self swirling in his veins just yet, but he thinks the ridiculous kid with the oversized earphones and Ferrari shirt can go somewhere with this pipe dream. 

Second, he gets an Apple iPod for Christmas. It’s probably the coolest object he’s ever laid hands on. He downloads _Untouchables_ and listens to it for hours on loop. 

Third, he kisses a dude for the first time. Which isn’t as impressive as it sounds: it’s nothing special, really, just a quick brush of his lips against James’ in an empty classroom. James is nice—he’s tall with a nice smile, doesn’t take shit from Harry or any of the other brutish guys, holds Daniel’s waist as they both lean in for more. 

* * *

They don’t bring up the kiss after it happens.

It’s not an issue: Daniel’s busy getting in shape, which is crazy in and of itself—not even the best kids in his sports class work out as hard as he does. He’s ambitious and scrappy, unbothered by the woes of the world.

He does wonder, however, if James would have avoided talking about it had Daniel been a girl. The answer, though obvious, hurts him just the slightest bit.

* * *

Formula Ford is insane. The corners are kind of slower than he expected, but hey, he’s living out his fucking dream, regardless of his mediocre championship standings.

His car is old and cheap; it’s incidentally also the best thing he’s ever driven. 

* * *

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t feel up to it,” Daniel says with a shrug.

“Man, you never come to anything anymore,” James moans. Daniel’s cheeks burn a little—he isn’t a lousy friend by any means, but he does recognise he’s been absent in the past couple years or so. Maybe he should make an effort to go out regardless of his disposition, just so they’re aware he still cares.

“I know,” he concedes. “I’ll try to make more time, I promise. It’s just…”

“Yeah, racing, I know,” James says.

“If only you hadn’t turned into a stuck-up faggot,” Harry says.

It happens too fast for eyes: Daniel punches him square in the jaw, knuckles throbbing with both the hit and the rage coursing through his body. He doesn’t know why the offhand comment angers him so much—he wants to say it’s because of the implication that he’s turned his back on his friends after he started to be serious about racing, which is a blatant falsehood, but…

It’s deeper than that. 

He rushes home, clutching his hand to make it stop bleeding, a different kind of shame in his chest. 

* * *

“What happened?” his dad asks later, once Michelle and his mum aren’t around to fret over his injury anymore.

“He was taking the piss,” Daniel says, scratching his bandaged knuckles. It’s only a shabby half-truth, and he thinks his dad knows it. 

* * *

The altercation with Harry messes with his head more than he cares to admit. He wants to leave Duncraig and go somewhere different, where not a single person gives a shit about who Daniel chooses to snog or not. His mum’s not so keen on it.

“You know we love you,” she tells him, a frown creasing her forehead, and he does know. “But Melbourne—Daniel, that’s at least four days of travel, and your schoolwork…”

He sighs, rubs the back of his neck in exasperation. “Mum, this is my _chance_. I started later than the other kids and I’m on their level now. I finally caught up. I have to go.”

“But you’ve never been this resolute about it,” she says. His stomach sinks. “I don’t know why this isn’t enough anymore.”

Daniel thinks, _I’m tired of being afraid they’ll call me a fairy_ and _I want to be in a new place where nobody knows who I am_. What he says is, “I think I can make it big, mum.”

She kisses the top of his head through the shaggy curls. “I know,” she says. “I know, gangsta.” 

* * *

He goes to Melbourne and retires on the last race.

“Worth it,” he says to his parents once they’re back home. 

* * *

The Year 12 Ball is the only thing anyone can talk about. Daniel wants to care as much as they do, but finds he can’t; it’s hard to, considering he’s so profoundly disconnected from school life as a whole. He doesn’t even know who to ask out, for Christ’s sake.

He ends up inviting Jemma for the sake of having a girl to walk around with. She’s nice and sweet; he doesn’t mind the grip of her hand on his.

They kiss after the Ball. She wants them to date for real, and he’s too nervous to say anything but yes. Deep down he thinks she’s got it all wrong—did she mistake him for a guy who’s going to spend most of his life in Australia?

Maybe it’s a cop-out, an easy way to turn down weird guys without needing to go on dates with her boyfriend.

* * *

Turns out Asia is full of hot men, including a Kiwi driver who keeps sending Daniel too many mixed signals for him to interpret. 

More importantly, he places third during his first season in Formula BMW. 

* * *

“I’m gay,” Daniel tells the mirror, keeping his voice low though he’s mostly accustomed to living on his own. The word feels strange on his tongue, inaccurate even if it’s the only label he knows that justifies the stupid itch he feels when he sees a good-looking man out on the streets.

It tastes almost like a slur.

He sighs and washes the thin layer of shaving foam off his face, looking at his reflection behind the specks of dirt on the glass.

Pathetic, wrong, trying too hard. The only time he escapes it is when he’s behind the damn wheel, and it feels more and more like he won’t get that much time racing after all. Maybe he’ll spend the rest of his life playing whack-a-mole with his dirty thoughts about the other guys in the grid, sad and angry at himself.

* * *

Part of a man’s skull is crushed to powder on a sidewalk in Sydney.

Daniel understands it, now. He’s never feared crashing into the barriers at 200 km/h; this, however, sends a chill down his spine, makes him swear every shameful thought in his mind will go with him to the grave, lest they become the reason he gets there in the first place. 

* * *

Michelle’s a lot more knowledgeable than he is—she actually worries about her academic success and often spends time scrolling through strange discussion forums Daniel’s never heard of.

She’s the one who tells him, “David Bowie isn’t gay, he’s bisexual.” 

It leaves him thinking, that one.

* * *

Bisexual, then.

Daniel comes into his second year in Formula Renault with a new addition to his lexicon: a person who’s attracted to men and women. Pink, purple, blue. It feels a lot closer to his heart than the rainbow, however much he may appreciate that flag. 

He wins his first European title.

* * *

A 64-point lead makes him the first Australian driver to win the British Formula 3 title since Sir Jack Brabham’s son. He has to admit, it’s an extremely flattering accolade. 

Stood on a podium in Portimão, he wonders if he’s the first bisexual driver to win it, too. 

* * *

“Mum,” he murmurs, sounding painfully squeaky over the phone, breath caught in his throat. “There’s something I want you to know, before I go home for Christmas, okay?”

“Of course,” she says. He thinks she already knows what he’s about to tell her.

The moment comes and goes too fast, and though Daniel’s heart is going a billion miles per hour, it feels like a weight is lifted off his shoulders when he says, “I’m bisexual.”

She’s silent for a moment. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he says. He looks down at the kitchen table and finds he can’t see through the tears gathering in his eyes. “I know, mum.”

* * *

Christian Horner pats his back and orders him to get into the car in Jerez.

It takes a long, joyful cry to fully flush the adrenaline out of his system.

* * *

He loses to Mikhail in Catalunya. He blames himself for being too confident, for believing he could actually turn things around at the last second.

_Fairy tales don’t happen in real life_, he reminds himself—then Jev sneaks into his room with an apologetic smile and proves him wrong.

Having sex with a man breaks all his expectations; maybe it’s because he’s 21 and full of pent-up arousal, but dammit, Jev has him fearing for his neighbours’ circadian rhythm.

Whatever he has with Jev isn’t serious, but it’s good, and he could live forever under the thrill of making another guy come, all sprawled out on Daniel’s creaking bed. 

* * *

After he’s slept with Jev multiple times, the whole _attraction to men_ thing feels big enough to tell his dad when his parents come to Milton Keynes in June. It’s not sweet and smooth like with his mum—he hadn’t expected it to be. He gets a light pat on the back and a whispered, “Just take care of yourself.”

(Daniel cries into his shirt, shakier than a leaf.)

Two days later, Helmut Marko calls and announces Red Bull has bought him a spot at HRT.

Hispania is a shit team, Daniel knows. But it’s a Formula 1 car, and he can’t help the flood of tears once he hangs up, finding comfort in his mum’s warm embrace.

“Honey, I’m so proud of you. Gosh, you did it,” she says, and he tries to contain the anxiety swirling inside his stomach. _Oh, God, I did it_. A bisexual, lanky kid from Perth has an F1 seat.

* * *

None of his history with questioning his sexuality goes public; he doesn’t want it to, in all honesty. The idea of being a role model beyond the wheel is too stressful for the scared 8-year-old still hiding in his heart, staring at the TV with wide, terrified eyes.

Instead, Daniel gets tricoloured stripes inked over his heart, a small reminder of something he’s tried so hard to forget. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Daniel actually lived in the number 3 (Dale Earnhardt's number) house.](https://www.theplayerstribune.com/en-us/articles/daniel-ricciardo-formula-1-red-bull)
> 
> The case Daniel sees on TV happened in real life. A man killed Donald Gillies after a sexual advance; [Green v. The Queen](http://netk.net.au/Australia/Green.asp) reduced his sentence from murder to manslaughter based on the gay panic defence, which is still legal in South Australia.
> 
> The iPod was released in 2002. _Untouchables_ is an album by Korn. It's very angsty and edgy. I'm not sure Daniel actually would listen to it.
> 
> The [second hate crime Daniel hears of happened as well](https://web.archive.org/web/20080609224843/http://www.ssonet.com.au/display.asp?ArticleID=7569). The victim and his boyfriend later led the Sydney Mardi Gras parade.
> 
> "I had no problem with people knowing I was bisexual. But I had no inclination to hold any banners or be a representative of any group of people." David Bowie to Blender Magazine, 2002.
> 
> Details on series, results, dates etc. were all researched very quickly during writing sprints and may be incorrect, but should be vaguely accurate.
> 
> My Tumblr is (still) singlemalter.


End file.
